To Carry the Scent of Heaven
by theblindedunicorn
Summary: "Why do you, a mere human, carry the scent of Heaven?" "Because I have met God, my beautiful fallen angel, Sytry." A story about what made Sytry fall, and about what made others fall for him. Set during Solomon's reign, eventual Solomon x Sytry (and maybe a few others desiring him as well). Might turn out slightly AU-ish, since this is my approach to explaining Sytry's past. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Okay, this is my first attempt at a chaptered story. I could probably put it all in one REAAAALLY long chapter, but I want to know what you guys are thinking about this, so I'll just give you little snippets to comment on. So go ahead and comment. Please. COMMENT. o_o

Anyway, I've gotten really into Makai Ouji lately! (it. is. amazing.) However, since only 4 mangas have been published in Germany (which is where I live woopie doopie doo) yet, I don't have the greatest pool of knowledge... BUT I was wondering about **Sytry's backstory**, like **why he fell from heaven** and **what his relationship with Solomon actually was** (and whether it ever reached a yummi yummi sexual level **ooops** sorry my inner fangirl sometimes breaks out randomly). As you have probably already guessed, this will contain **Solomon x Sytry **in later chapters and the **rating might go up.**

So THIS is the first part of what my mind came up with! If I disrespected some facts which are already or will later be revealed in the actual story, I apologise. I suppose it would make this kind of AU-ish... I just think Sytry is absolutely adorable and a strong character (and gah if I was a hot guy and ever met him, I'd totally want to get in his pants **pardon me**) and he deserves lots of my thoughts invested in him. Here we go. Unbeta'd. Yeah.

**Disclaimer: **Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist with all it's loveable (and less loveable) characters is the property of Madoka Takadono and Utako Yukihiro. I obviously don't own any of that, and I don't make any money from this either. I use this story solely for my own entertainment and hopefully for that of a few others, too.

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**To Carry the Scent of Heaven**

"Are you lonely?"

"…"

"Then, come with me."

"…Why do you, a mere human, carry the scent of Heaven?"

"Because I have met God. My beautiful fallen angel, Sytry... The blood of Gabriel flows in your veins. I shall make you one of my pillars."

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It wasn't painful, becoming a demon. It wasn't even mentally exhausting compared to what his fall from heaven had been like.

He had always tried to be a good, obedient angel, never questioning his Lord or the Archangel Michael for that matter. But for centuries, he had been watching the humans fall victim to their own selfishness and cruelty, not once feeling like his guidance was appreciated. So eventually, he had started to despise them and their constant desire for things they didn't deserve. Against his angelic nature, Sytry had come to find humans repulsive in their characteristics. At first, he had questioned his authority to be an angel when he harboured no love for these creatures of God, but the more he had paid attention to their flaws, the less comfortable he had felt watching over them. Unwilling to sacrifice his existence for a selfish, ingrate species, he had decided to speak to God about his hatred for the human race. Back then, Sytry had been crying out that no, humans would never change and no, they could never truly find salvation if they kept on _desiring _like they were!

His worries, however, had only been met with indifference and a few words from Michael telling him: "Sytry, God knows the human race far better than you do. He is their creator, just as He is yours. You should be happy to guide them towards blessedness and aid your Lord by performing your duties. If God is convinced that humans can be saved, you must accept this truth."

Michael had looked so angelic yet alarmingly manic then that Sytry couldn't help but speak his mind. "But what if He is wrong? I cannot stand this any longer! I cannot stand their greediness and their desire for power, or for carnal gratification! They repulse me, Michael, and I am beginning to think that somewhere deep down, our Lord himself is repulsed by his creation. God's unwavering love for such flawed creatures is getting dangerous. I genuinely believe all humans are doomed, Michael!"

(Later, Sytry would often ask himself whether he had made the right choice at that moment, speaking his warning out loud, yet somehow he was never able to find a definite answer to this question. Solomon would only smile and stroke the scars where his wings had once been attached to his body.)

The sudden flash of light and pain that followed his speech had surely been unexpected. Sytry had never imagined Michael to be a likely supporter of his rebellious thoughts, but being attacked by the Archangel had been a far more brutal reaction than what Sytry had anticipated. Through the blinding white that had seemed to be surrounding him, he had been able to make out Michael's voice as clear and strong as ever, though having a newly found manic edge to it:

"You dare accusing your one and only God of feeling disgust towards the human race that he has created? You dare accusing your _own_ creator, Sytry, His Omniscient Lordship, of misinterpreting human mannerisms?"

_No, wait, this is not what I wanted to say!_

Desperately trying to find his voice, Sytry had been unable to feel his body, unable to retort the words of justification that were burning on his tongue. Even concentrating all of his willpower on breaking the numbness that had settled over his senses, he hadn't been able to stop the agonising voice from intruding his mind.

"Who do you think you are, making these accusations based on nothing but your own foolish notions?! There is no place in Heaven for impurity, Sytry. I am bound to ban all traitors and sceptics who dare question the omnipotence of our Lord."

_No… No, please!_

"Hereby, you shall be expelled from Heaven-"

_No! Stop, Michael, don't you understand I am only trying to warn you? I never-_

"-and not ever be welcomed back! From this day on-"

_God, why don't you listen? Your love for the human race is going to destroy you! Please…_

"-I declare you to be a fallen angel!"

Instantly, a violent jolt had pulsed through his body and Sytry had felt himself being pulled up by an invisible force. He had seen Michael's face hovering above him, his expression contorted in disgust, right before feeling the _p__ush_. It hadn't simply been a physical experience, but instead the push had seemed to envelop his whole being, body, mind, soul. Any connection he had ever felt to heaven had been torn apart at that exact same moment and the total lack of _belonging_ that had come crashing down on Sytry's mind had felt excruciating. His lips had been opened in a silent cry as the shape of Michael's face had disappeared into deep darkness.

Suddenly, helplessly, Sytry had known he was falling.

**TBC**

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COMMENTS. o_o


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so after these ridiculously long and unneccessary author's notes from last chapter, I'd say straight on with the plot! I hope you guys will like it! I am actually getting quite excited now. HOWEVER there is something I need to do first, and that is **thanking dsi user for the lovely Review. **You made me very happy and gave me strength for the English exam I had thad day! (that's actually true hehe) Another **big thanks for the faves and follows**.

**Disclaimer: **Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist is the property of Madoka Takadono and Utako Yukihiro.

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When humans spoke of Heaven, they imagined a place beyond the clouds, but their ideas of where Heaven existed never went any further. In reality, Heaven could be anywhere yet nowhere in the same instant, being a realm in different spheres- angels were able to appear wherever they were needed, and they felt Heaven's presence if they had to return. However, not one of them could pinpoint how exactly they found their way back home. It all worked by instinct. This curious state of non-existence was essentially what made it nearly impossible for all outsiders to ever reach the kingdom of God.

…_I am an outsider now_.

Sytry felt numb. He didn't know for how long he had been falling when he regained consciousness to the wet, chilly sensation of water drops surrounding him. The winds blowing around him were pulling at his robes, his hair, his wings, and his eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness before he realised he was rushing towards a seemingly endless expanse of water. Acting on instinct more than thinking rationally, Sytry spread his wings and didn't even acknowledge the pain that instantly stabbed his shoulders at the sudden strain. For a moment, he simply relied on his wings carrying him, the only reminder of Heaven he currently felt. The natural connection every angel shared with his realm was gone, and he would have felt exasperated and desolate if it wasn't for the utter numbness that had settled over his senses. Soaring above the waters, Sytry realised he had no notion of where he was and really, he had nowhere to go either.

_Did you drop me above the ocean so I could drown myself if I was desperate enough, Michael? _

He wasn't sure whether he would be able to swim if his strength was fading, but right now the only thing Sytry felt was the cold, and submerging didn't seem any more pleasant to him. As the rain drops continued to hit his face, he became aware of the flimsy fabric that had served as his clothing in Heaven. It was soaking wet, not providing any protection from the weather, and its weight only pulled him down. For a moment Sytry considered getting rid of his robe, but that idea was soon dismissed.

_Having my arms turned into wings like this I can't even take it off, unless I risk falling…_

Sytry let out an irritated snarl. With being expelled from Heaven apparently came the inability to transform… Naturally, angels were able to take different forms, usually determined by convenience: In their native form, they looked like humans with wide, feathery, white wings attached to their shoulder blades. When disguised as mortals these wings disappeared and if necessary, the angel was even able to model his facial features, hair, and body shape. Lastly they had the ability to change into their travel form, which turned their arms into their wings, leaving momentary appendages where the wings would usually be connected to their bodies. This form allowed the angel to advance faster and use his strength more efficiently due to improved aerodynamics.

It also was the form Sytry was currently stuck in. Maybe under different circumstances he would have panicked, but unable to grasp the gravity of his exile from Heaven just yet, the fallen angel could only rationalise his situation.

_I can't feel Heaven anymore. I can only feel the rain and the cold... I can't transform. I don't know where I am and I don't know where I am going, but I might die if I don't reach land to rest my wings. Can I even die? I feel something inside of me pulling me- pulling me- I want to rest… I want to feel something else than this merciless cold… _

Right then, confused and shocked, Sytry wasn't in a state to question his intuition. Blindly focusing on the only kind of guidance he had, and with the prospect of rest in mind, Sytry rose again and turned eastwards, moving in the direction his instincts were guiding him to take.

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_I feel burned. I feel cold. I feel alone. I must not think about what I feel._

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When he finally laid eyes upon the shore of an unknown country, he didn't even have the strength to be relieved anymore. Sytry had flown for a week straight, and after that first storm had ceased, the sun had been burning his back relentlessly during the days. The nights, though cooling his sunburn, were even more horrifying: The angel had never experienced anything so _dark _during his entire existence. In Heaven, God's light always shone, warm and golden, and even when Sytry had been on Earth, Heaven's presence had made the darkness bearable with its inexplicable shine. Now, separated and with nothing but the stars glowing faintly above him, he had felt so utterly _lonely_ that at one point, he had tried drowning himself. It had been of no avail. That's why he had just kept on flying.

Sytry had been able to make out a major island in the distance to his left at one point or another, yet there was this sensation pulling him further east. Having succumbed to that intuition completely after finding out he was still immortal, he had not allowed himself any thoughts wasted on anything but _reaching the shore_. Seeing the sole content of his mind in front of him now was, on some level, disenchanting. What would be there to focus on now that he had almost reached his goal? Would there be anything preventing him from thinking about Heave-

_Don't, Sytry, you haven't landed yet. You haven't… completed… your journey yet…_

With an exhausted breath and a loud thump Sytry's body finally collided with the ground. He rolled over twice, smothering his tired wings with his body in the process, before coming to a halt. All worries were wiped out as he lost consciousness and his body stilled in the wet sand, the gentle waves licking his feet to the slow rhythm of the sea.

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"You really are truly beautiful… Would you mind if I touched you? You… don't understand me anyway, do you? I just want to… touch your face…"

The longing tone of the voice was the first thing Sytry noticed after these words had woken him from his sleep. The second was the lack of pain in his body and the feeling of a rough mattress beneath him. The third thing he became suddenly aware of was the tingling sensation of fingers gently stroking his cheek and the disgusting smell of _human _that went with it. Abruptly, he opened his eyes and flinched back. He was met by a frightened gaze out of two black orbs, which belonged to a young man with dark hair and caramel skin. The boy froze and Sytry could see a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

_He can see me? That human just _touched_ me?_

It took the angel less than a second to take in his surroundings: a small cell containing a straw mattress and a jar of water next to the human in front of him, the only light falling through a narrow window to his right and the door to his left, which was left wide open.

_Stupid human. I have watched your kind fight each other long enough. _

A well-focussed kick directed at the boys chest sent him toppling over and in an instant, Sytry was on his feet and out the door. At the end of the corridor he now found himself in was another wooden gate, and he wasted no time in running towards it, already hearing the boy's shouts behind him. Unable to grip the handle since his arms were still replaced by his wings, Sytry simply threw himself against the old timber and stumbled out as soon as the door gave way with a tired creak. For just a second, he was blinded by the glistening sunlight and the sheer mass of sand reflecting it back.

That was, until his gaze fell upon the group of women staring amazedly at him and the reality of the situation came crashing down on Sytry's mind with the force of a thunderstorm. He was on Earth. He was visible. He was a _fallen angel_. With a raw, primal scream Sytry pushed himself off the ground and spread his wings, effectively sending the young man who had just reached out for him from behind tumbling again. His only thought was to bring as much distance as possible between himself and these _filthy, disgusting humans_. His scream soon turned into actual words the higher he got.

"This is entirely _the human's fault_! If they weren't so despicable, I wouldn't have- I'd never-"

Sytry would never have raised his voice against God if they had just stopped killing, sinning, _desiring _so much! He would be in Heaven now, watching over a peaceful species, if it wasn't for the damned desire that essentially portrayed the true face of mankind. He would be in Heaven now…

"I would be where I belong, alongside you, God… I wouldn't have to be surrounded by sin and desire, by their stares and touches… Is this my punishment, Michael? Abhorrent humans watching me, reaching out for me? Not being able to find my way back home? Being alone despite _them_ being all around me…?"

Sytry's desperate cries slowly softened to sobs as he realised he would never feel Heaven again, no matter how strongly he justified his actions. Quite likely there was no one in Heaven even listening to his outburst. After all, it was him who violated the rules and criticised God himself… But had his words been that grave? Had his attempt at a warning been worth losing all connection to Heaven?

_It certainly hasn't. I am sorry, God, but I am also sorry for myself._

Lost in his thoughts, Sytry didn't stop circling higher before he felt the moisture on his cheeks freeze over. He had just started to float back towards Earth waveringly when he felt the pull inside of him again, the inexplicable intuition that had guided him towards the shore before. It was even stronger now, and suddenly Sytry was thankful for the feeling of purpose it gave him. Deciding to follow the urge, he desisted from gliding down and instead moved in the direction that seemed to pull him in.

While he had soared for hours above scorching hot desert sand and the occasional village, the curious attraction had constantly grown. It wasn't until he was able to make out the outlines of a palace on the horizon that Sytry realised the source of it was actually a town. This time, however, the angel's distaste for human crowds was overpowered by the irresistible force drawing him towards the palace. Suddenly, a very peculiar scent hit him.

_What is the meaning of this…? It can't be-_

The closer Sytry got, the less mistakable the scent became. Slowly, an expression of serenity began to replace the confusion previously evident on his beautiful face, and he was unable to appreciate the aureate architecture of the palace or the tidiness of the town, as an incredible thought was formed in his mind:

_Someone in this palace… carries the distinct scent… of Heaven._

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_**I**__** will forever cherish the person who reviews my writing o_o**_


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